Christmas Cheer

Check out what I've been doing lately to get ready for the Christmas season!

First Time, Delilah

A few years ago when I got a new Lifehouse album, the CD came with an internet code for a free ringtone of their song "First Time". Of course, I jumped on it because I didn't have any cool ringtones on my phone. Plus also, I really like that band.And since it was my favorite ringtone, I set it for boy in my contact list that I was most interested in at the time. (Sometimes, it was 2 or 3 people, but mostly just one). That way, when he'd call (which c'mon here. NEVER. happened.), I'd get a double hit of happiness.

Then I went on a mission and I got a new phone when I came home. And I tell you what, with this new phone, there are NO good ringtones. Everyone else in the Blake family can attest to that .. .we all have the same phone. Heidi's phone was a different model, so somehow she still had a couple of past ringtones that had been sent to her. So using her phone, I sent a couple of them to me. (I don't even think she knew I did that). Now my best ringtone is Plain White T's "Hey There, Delilah." Eh, not my favorite song, but it's way better than the default Verizon tune, no matter how jazzed up it is. (My friend later sent me a Mario ringtone, which is pretty cool, but I overused it by setting it on my default. So, it's not special anymore.)

Now that I had a special ringtone, I had to set it! I definitely had it set for one contact over the summer. I almost set it for another guy, too, but when he heard my Mario ringtone, he thought that was way cool. So I left that one for him . ..and every other default person that called me.

Then, you know, summer ended. And I changed all my ringtones back to default. Nothin' there guys. Of all the male contacts in my phone, there just wasn't one special one worth changing my ringtone for.

Then, you know, the semester's ending. And I changed just one rigntone to not be default. Somethin' there in a guy. Of all the male contacts in my phone, I've found the special one worth changing my ringtone for.

So, if you think you're it, call me when you're with me and listen for Delilah. =)

Baths

Before you think I actually take baths, well . . . I don't. For several reasons.

1) college apartment tub. DIS-GUST-ING!! How many naked people have used that tub? Ew, gross, right? Never ever ever will I take a bath in a college apartment, no matter how sore my muscles are.
2) The idea of soaking in water that turns lukewarm rather quickly? Ew. And how would you wash your hair?
3)Time. Like I ever have that.
4)The soap scum and hair that'll line the bottom of the tub. Bleck. I want to puke just imagining it.

Needless to say, my favorite alternative to taking baths is just not doing anything. OK, well, I do shower . . .when I remember.

Anyway, that's not what this post is about. This post is about Christmas shopping. How, you ask? Well, I was thinking of buying one of those old-fashioned claw-foot metal tubs . ..
Nope.

I was going to buy some nice bath or after-bath accessories, like body lotion and yummy smelling body wash or soap. Can't you just smell the scrumptious scents of Bath and Body Works? It's like a party in your nasal cavity!

Hmm.
Lovely holiday scents. Delicious.
Clean-smelling goodness. Delightful.

(It won't make up for the grossness of taking a bath in a college apartment, though).

So, I cruised on over to Bath and Body Works tonight to buy some. Not really for me, though. (It's Christmas; don't ask questions!). There was a car backing out right near the door, so I totally scored his awesome parking spot. And then I walked in and realized . . .

I had walked into Bed, Bath, & Beyond.
And I didn't even want to buy anything there.
Doh.
I must be a pretty amateur Christmas shopper.
But I bet there was at least one holiday shopper who saw me parking in that spot. And I bet by the time he had parked significantly farther away and walked up to the door of the store, he would've realized that my parking spot was now empty.

Alas, I still don't have my lovely lotions and smelly soaps.

Hey!

Hey is a good word. It has lots of wonderful usages.

The ever-repetitive cheer in The Hey Song. (pretty dumb song anyway).

The universal "greet and nod" word used when you encounter people you sort of know.

Examples include, but are not limited to:

your roommate's friends that you don't know very well
a previous crush that you've definitely been over for a while
someone you know you know from class, work, your previous or current ward, or your mission
someone from your home stake who you've never seen since living in that stake
relatives that you should know better, but you don't
and all sorts of other random people you've met once upon a time.

The first word of Hey, Baby! Also the first word of Hey, Soul Sister. Both of which are very good songs.

It's a rill good attention getter. It's a catchy word.

A great word to say on road trips when you see hay bales in the fields to the side of the road. People fall for it all the time. (Think it through peeps).

An incredibly professional greeting for when you meet the president of your school. At least I thought so, when I so blatantly blurted it out upon meeting Pres. Samuelson last Saturday. Oh well.

Lockers

I have three lockers at school. My bass clarinet locker is a new locker from when the instrument lockers were redesigned this summer. The new lockers don't have a latch or anything; after you get to the last number, you just turn it a little more to the right and it clicks open. It should be easy, right?

Ha. It's not. It usually takes me about three times before I can open it.

Because of the redesign of the instrument lockers, smaller instruments are no longer provided with lockers in that area of the HFAC. So I have a locker for my clarinet in the photography wing of the HFAC (10 pts to any HFAC dweller who can tell me where that is!). It's a regular locker, but for some reason, it took me a least a dozen spins of the dial to get it to open correctly today. I felt rill ding-dang-dong stupid. And since it's on the bottom, I normally just squat to open it and quickly grab my instrument. But no, today, I had to literally kneel down on the ground, put my stuff in my arms on the ground, spin the dial with one hand and hit the locker with the other. Did it open? Good golly, not yet! It just needed a good kick. Ok, great. Now I have my instrument. Fast forward a couple of hours, and I have to open the locker again to put my instrument away. Yet again, another ding-dang-dong stupid feeling moment. Normally the traffic in that hall of lockers is very limited. But no, today the girl who has the locker two away from mine came to her locker at the same time. "Oh great, she'll think I don't know how to work the locker combination." I wasn't wanting another lesson on "Spin clockwise to the first number, spin counter-clockwise for the next number, passing it once, spin clockwise to the third number and lift latch." Yeah, the spinning part is great, it's the latch part that's the catch (play on words, get it?). Another kick, another slam, another sigh of frustration, and FINALLY, I could open my locker! And it was shortly after that other girl came, too, so she didn't see me looking like a fool talking to an inanimate object in frustration. Yay.

Oh, but then, I get to the stadium for marching band. I have another locker there for my marching clarinet and music. Normally I have no problems whatsoever with the lock or locker. But when I get to the stadium today, I realize that I hadn't properly closed it the last time, so it was still wide open.

Yeah. I remember in fourth grade when we first started using lockers at Parker Elementary, and I thought it was the coolest thing ever. Definitely not anymore.

Opposites

So I was talking to my roommates the other night about boys. It's a common conversation topic among us girls. What's not so common is that the four of us are ever home to have these types of conversations (and actually, the night I'm thinking of, there were only three of us). And to be honest, since school started, I don't think about boys nearly as much as I did over the summer. Mostly 'cause I'm busy with other stuff. Like school, work, band, my calling (which doesn't really involve many guys), etc. But occasionally, I cast a thought in the direction of the opposite gender.

Here's a recent discovery I made.

A few months ago I had a big crush on a guy in my ward (who will remain nameless for the sake of my anonymous blog audience here). He was very attractive, he's very smart and friendly, and he's a hard worker, and he was a good listener. Which, if you know me at all, you know I like to talk. Bonus points, right? As I got to know him more, I realized that we didn't really have a lot in common. Our interests were about as opposite as night and day. I'm pretty sure he had never set foot in the HFAC, and he probably had no idea what a clarinet even looked like. Yeah, it was that bad. And his sense of humor . .. .okay, his lack of humor, really .. .was so not like mine. I had to remember not to tell corny jokes or puns around him because he never got them, and then I would just feel ridiculous trying to explain why the pencil joke had no point. Sigh. Sad, eh? Yet, I still liked him quite a bit. I felt all giddy and excited around him-sometimes to the point where I didn't know what to say or how to act. And of course, I always tried to sit next to him at church and find excuses to talk to him .. . you know, the normal signs. But then he moved, and I got over him (unlike Ernie and his childhood fish). On the plus side, it's nice to be able to get over a crush quickly, especially when I didn't even have a rebound!

Fast forward to fall semester. New friends, new stuff, new ward, lots of new things. And I'm discovering the exact opposite of what happened to me this summer!! Here's how. So, I'm starting to be pretty good friends with some new people, and one guy in particular is very much like me. He's not crazy enough to study music like me, but he enjoys it. Quite a bit, actually. Not only does he enjoy my lame sense of humor, but he has a pretty lame humor himself. He's so easy to talk to, and I always feel comfortable around him. Not only does he let me talk and listen to me, but he always contributes, too, so I don't feel dumb for dominating the conversation. I feel good when I'm around him, and he always makes me smile. Here's the catch. I just don't feel attracted to him!! I should, right? He fits everything on my "future husband" list that I rewrote and revised about a dozen times over the last several years of my life. I feel good when I'm around him, yet I don't have that excited "Hey-I-really-like-you" feeling around him, and I'm not constantly trying to be aware of him. (You know what I'm talking about, right?). That spark just isn't there no matter how much I wish it could be there.

So, maybe by the next time my roommate conversation about boys comes up again, I'll finally have it right! I'll actually feel excited AND comfortable around a boy I like! I'll keep you updated.

Corned Beef

A random title for a random post. But it's all true.
For being canned meat (doesn't that just give you a gross image?), corned beef isn't bad. And it's rill good in a casserole dish . ..you know, with white sauce, cheese and bread. Yummy! And it's prolly pretty tasty fried, but I've never tried it that way. But I think I've figured out a few reasons why it's not a staple in the American diet:
1. It's dang expensive. $5+ for one can. Just think: you can buy another can that has the letters "C-o-r-n" for as low as $.69. . . . Hmm.
2. What is it made out of anyway? How is it made? Who really knows? And what makes it corned? And how is "corn" a verb? I don't get it.
3. Well, have you looked at it raw? Gross. Especially the off-white fatty chunks molded into it.
4. "And I'd like one of those meat cans you have to open with a key" (10 pts for anyone who really knows what I'm quoting). Seriously. A key?! Keys are usually used to open cool things, like your apartment or car door, the mailbox, a safe deposit box .. .but food? (That makes it sound like food is not cool, but it often is). Why do you need a key to open food? It's like a finger obstacle course for a fat guy. You probably burn brain calories trying to figure out how to open it. Either that or you injure yourself. Or you accidentally break off the tab thing, and you're left with a key and nowhere to insert it. Great. An unopenable can of gross looking expensive meat. But if by some miracle, you master the key thing, how do you get it to come out of the can? Yeah, you got half an inch stickin' out, but how do you get the rest of it out? Then comes the awkward downward thrusts of the can to oblige the fatty meat to slide on outta there. But usually, besides not helping the meat come out, it just makes you wonder once again why you even bought that expensive, mysterious, seclusive chunk of meat in a can.